


Alone Together

by AwesomeMango7



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Confusion, Fusion, Inspired by Steven Universe, Loneliness, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pain, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-17 16:53:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18102572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomeMango7/pseuds/AwesomeMango7
Summary: “W-wait,” He said, folding his legs underneath him on the ground. He rose a hand to his throat, trying to figure out why his voice sounded so weird. “What the fuck?”He looked down in confusion, feeling off in every way imaginable. Something definitely wasn’t right. His clothes... were... weird. Why was Rick’s lab coat—? Why was Morty’s yellow shirt—? Why did he have—?His eyes widened, a sudden realization hitting 'them' like a ton of bricks.“Am I— are we?” He said, heart suddenly pounding in his ears. “What the fuck?! D-did— am I— are we the same person now?! How did this even—“In which Rick and Morty are fused together into one person. Basically, they now share a body and don't know how to get back to normal.(This was greatly inspired by Steven Universe lol)





	Alone Together

**Author's Note:**

> Guys I'm really excited about this fanfic. It's very heavily inspired by Steven Universe, which I would definitely recommend for you guys to watch. Though, you don't have to watch it to understand what's happening in the story, so don't worry about that. I really can't believe nobody else has written a Rick and Morty fic with this idea, so I guess it's up to me lol. (I've seen plenty of fanart for it, but I couldn't find any fics).
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy! I'm really excited about it. XD

Morty was dead to the world, soft snores slipping past his lips with each deep breath he took. Moonlight shined in low beams through the blinds over his window, illuminating his face. He scrunched up his closed eyes, turning over in his sleep to unconsciously avoid the light.   
  
A bit of drool had trailed down the corner of his open mouth and made a wet patch on his pillow. It wasn’t often that he got to sleep like this. His sleeping schedule was so crazy at this point that he often found it hard to sleep at night.   
  
Tonight, however, he’d actually managed to clear his head enough to fall into a deep sleep. He was completely lost in his dreams, unaware of the rest of the world in the blissful darkness.   
  
But the deep sleep was soon interrupted by the loud sound of his bedroom door slamming against the wall, shaking everything on his shelves and startling the poor teen awake. And, _of course,_ it was none other than Rick Sanchez who was barging so rudely into his room. He’d be right on schedule if there actually was one. It was always around the same time that he came barging in.   
  
Morty sat completely upright, a gasp of surprise and shock quickly overtaking him as his still half-asleep brain tried to process what was happening.   
  
“Morty!” A voice said, loud and urgent. That was Rick’s voice.   
  
The brunette focused his sight on the doorway, where Rick was standing. He could only see his silhouette in the darkness, but his shape was unmistakable. In another moment, light flooded the room as Rick flipped the switch.   
  
The teen shielded his face as the light assaulted his tired eyes, and he let out a groan of protest. “Augh, Rick—“  
  
“Morty, we gotta go!” Rick cut him off, making his way across the room in two large steps. He grabbed Morty’s arm, pulling it away from his face. “There’s a flower that’s growing on the trees on another planet, Morty! We gotta get them! Right now!”  
  
Morty stumbled after the older man as he was harshly yanked from his bed. He squinted, his eyes not quite adjusted yet. “Y-y-you mean, like, dogwood trees?” He questioned. He knew that type of tree had flowers on it. Right? Or maybe cherry blossom trees?   
  
“No, Morty!” Rick said, pulling him towards the door. “They’re much better than that! I-I can use them to manipulate atoms and matter! They have a special pollen inside them, and— and it’s super important to my work!”  
  
Morty dug the heels of his feet into the ground, trying to get Rick to stop tugging him. “O-okay, okay, _calm down."_ He said, voice still scratchy from sleep. He hated being woken up like this. “At least let me g-get dressed first.”  
  
Rick groaned, rolling his eyes. “Hurry up then, Morty.” He said, releasing the teen’s arm and turning around to glare at him. He lifted his right arm, pulling his sleeve up slightly and peering down at one of his several watches. “W-we-we don’t have all day. These flowers only bloom every five years, Morty, and we-we only have a couple of hours before they’re gone again.”   
  
Morty rolled his eyes, digging a pair of clothes out of his closet. He kept the same shirt on, feeling too tired to want to change it. But he did put pants, socks, and shoes on, so he wasn’t being too lazy. He’d made the mistake of going on an adventure in his pajamas before, and it hadn’t ended well.   
  
He struggled slightly with his left shoe, kicking his toe into the ground to get it all the way on. He sighed, walking back over to Rick, who was waiting impatiently for him in the hallway.  
  
When the old man saw him, he rolled his eyes. “About time, Morty.” He said, making his way down the stairs, two at a time.  
  
Morty followed, covering his mouth with his hand as he yawned. Rick acted like a spoiled brat sometimes, but Morty had just accepted it at this point. There was no changing the man, and it was easier just to go along with it.   
  
Rick began ranting again as they entered the garage, talking about how greatly the flowers were going to improve his work. The pollen inside could apparently fuse atoms and matter together in different ways, and Rick wanted the flowers so he make a gun that could turn people into stone.  
  
All he’d have to do is put the pollen and a few pieces of stone into a capsule and shoot it at his enemies, and they’d be turned to stone.   
  
“S-sounds—“ Morty yawned again, climbing into the passenger's seat of the Spaceship. “Sounds cool, Rick. Y-y-you’ll have to show me the gun o-once it’s finished.”  
  
“You bet your ass they sound cool, Morty!” Rick exclaimed, almost overjoyed as he started up the engine and backed out of the garage and into the driveway. Morty couldn’t help but find Rick’s excitement kind of endearing. “I-I’ll be able to accomplish so many things with those flowers!”  
  
Morty hummed in agreement, buckling himself into his seat. He felt annoyance tug at the back of his mind when Rick didn’t buckle up himself, but he let it go. “Can’t wait for it, Rick.” He said, laying his head against the window, the cool glass feeling nice against his face.   
  
Rick turned the radio on low, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel along with the tune as he flew the ship into space. Morty drifted back to sleep quickly after that, eager to rest up some more before he had to help Rick collect the flowers. 

  
  


* * *

 

  
  
Rick had climbed up into one of the many trees in the area and was picking out some of the best flowers and throwing them down to Morty, who had to catch them with a blue bucket.   
  
In a couple of hours, every single flower in this place was going to die, but the bucket had a special device inside of it that would preserve them long after they were supposed to die.   
  
“A-are you sure we need this many, Rick?” Morty asked, feeling tired of catching so many flowers.   
  
He had to admit this planet was beautiful, though. The trees were lined up in such a way that it looked like they were on an apple tree farm, and the flowers covering the trees were a beautiful pastel pink.   
  
Petals littered the ground on top of the bright green grass, all of them varying in size. The flowers could either be as small as a pebble, or as large as Morty’s head.  
  
The sky was a baby blue color, with several other planets visible from a distance. The air smelled pleasant and sweet, and he’d quickly discovered that it smelled as sweet as it did because of the flowers. He’d buried his nose into one of them earlier, taking in the beautifully rich, sweet scent. He’d never smelled something so floral, and yet, it wasn’t overwhelming like his grandmother’s (on his father’s side) perfume.   
  
“Of course, Morty.” The scientist called back from somewhere up in the tree. There were so many branches that wound and twisted together that Morty couldn’t see him. He caught a glimpse of blue every now and again, but that was it. “I need enough of these to last me the next five years. Another one is comin’ down.”  
  
Morty watched as a single flower about the size of his head started floating down. “Oo, that’s a big one, Rick!” He said, holding the bucket in position and letting the large flower fall inside.   
  
“That’s what she said.” Rick chuckled.  
  
Morty flushed, realizing his poor choice of words. “Haha, shut up, Rick.”  
  
“Alright, I’m gonna hop down, M-Morty, let's move to the next tree.” Rick said, and Morty took a step back as Rick suddenly appeared and landed on his feet in front of him. He sprung up immediately, his hands placed on his hips like he _wasn’t_ a seventy-year-old man. Morty always wondered how Rick could act like he was still in his twenties so well. He guessed it was just part of what Rick... well, _Rick._  
  
Morty giggled at the sight of him, seeing that a few small petals had gotten into his blue hair. “R-Rick, y-you kinda got...” He said, gesturing at his hair. “Petals.”  
  
Rick frowned at him, quickly brushing his hands through his hair to dislodge them. “Next tree, Morty, let's go.”  
  
Morty rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t get the smile off of his face.   
  
Rick was standing at the bottom of the next tree over, trying to find the best way that he could climb it, when Morty saw one particular flower that hadn’t seemed to bloom just yet. It was just a rose-bud, but it was _huge._  It was way bigger than any of the other flowers. One of his brows rose in confusion as he noticed the bud kind of looked like his was pulsing— like it was nearly bursting at the seams.   
  
“H-hey, Rick,” Morty said, standing next to the older man. His fingers tightened around the bucket. “Should we be worried about that flower over there?” He asked, pointing at the strange flower.  
  
Rick followed his gaze, eyeing the flower. “Just ignore it, Morty, that one’s just a late bloomer or something.” He waved him off. “It’s not gonna hurt us.”  
  
Morty frowned, not feeling reassured in the slightest. “Okay, Rick.” He said, giving the flower a suspicious look from the corner of his eye.  
  
He turned his attention away from the flower as Rick started to climb up the tree. He groaned and complained as he did it, saying that he would’ve made Morty climb instead, if not for the fact that the kid didn’t know which flowers were good and which ones were bad.   
  
Morty kept glancing at the weird, un-bloomed flower occasionally, feeling weary of it even though Rick said it was fine. He was so distracted that he’d almost missed catching some of the flowers that Rick was throwing down.   
  
After a while, Rick started climbing back down the tree, grumbling about there not being enough good flowers on this tree.   
  
As Rick looked around, trying to decide which tree he wanted to scavenge through next, Morty once again turned his attention to the flower. The weird pulsing seemed to have gotten worse over the time that he and Rick had been here, and he stood directly in front of it, trying to figure out what was happening to it.  
  
As he leaned in towards it, too distracted by his curiosity to be very cautious, it suddenly exploded in his face.   
  
Morty gasped, jumping back as a cloud of pink dust covered him from head to toe. He accidentally dropped the bucket, but that was the least of his concerns now. He’d somehow managed to inhale some of the pink dust, and he began backing away, coughing vehemently as he tried to clear his crowded, burning throat.   
  
The cloud of dust only followed his form like a magnet, and Morty was so desperate to get away that he didn’t even know he was heading towards Rick until he crashed directly into him.   
  
The two of them yelped as they fell to the ground, Rick letting out of slur of curses. “Morty— fuckin’— you gotta watch it.” Rick coughed, inhaling some of the dust that had been following Morty. “Jesus, w-what-what the fuck is this stuff? _What the hell did you do, Morty?!"_  
  
The two of them were sitting on the ground next to each other, a thick cloud of pink surrounding them.  
  
Morty was coughing into his arm, eyes watering from the potency of the stuff. It smelled unbearably sweet. This was much more similar to his grandmother’s perfume— it was potent and thick, and it made his eyes and throat itch like he was having an allergic reaction.   
  
“Morty,” Rick cut himself off with a cough. “We-we gotta—gotta get outta here.” He said, grabbing his grandson’s arm and yanking him up as he stood.  
  
The two of them started running, trying to escape the cloud of dust following them.   
  
“I-I’m sorry, Rick,” Morty said, waving his hand back and forth like he was trying to fan the dust away from them. “I-I was just looking—“ He coughed violently, losing his footing and crashing to the ground in a pile of petals.  
  
Rick groaned, covering his mouth with the cloth of his lab coat. He reached down to Morty, but as soon as he grabbed him, he felt his knees grow weak beneath him, and he fell next to him. “F-fuck,” He breathed heavily, feeling like the dust was burning his lungs. It reminded him of the first time he smoked weed, except it had been far more pleasant with the accompanying high.  
  
They were both too weak to stand, and alarm filled Rick. He’d left the portal gun in the Spaceship— there was no way for them to escape, and Rick had _no clue_ what the fuck was happening. He was not in control of the situation, and panic began to settle over him.   
  
“I-I’m sorry.” Morty stammered between coughs again, and Rick could see tears forming in his eyes, even through the thick pink dust.   
  
“I-It—“ Rick coughed. He was starting to feel very lightheaded all of a sudden. “God, what—“  
  
“R-Rick!” Morty looked at Rick in alarm. “Y-y-your hands!”  
  
Rick looked down at his hands, trying to figure out what Morty was freaking out about. They looked like they were beginning to melt— like he was turning into goo. “Oh, fuck.” He cursed, looking back up at Morty to see that the same thing was happening to Morty’s face. His mind had flashbacks to when their toxic selves were removed, except they weren’t green.   
  
The teenager seemed to be able to read the expression on Rick’s face, and his eyes widened. He reached a hand up to his face, globs of goo (was it even goo, or was his skin actually melting?) coming off of him.   
  
Rick was sure the kid would have screamed if the pink pollen wasn’t suffocating them.   
  
The lightheadedness got worse and worse with every second, and pretty soon neither of them could keep themselves sitting up. Morty was the first to fall over, a majority of his body spreading across the ground as he continued to melt like a popsicle on scolding hot concrete in the middle of summer.   
  
Rick tried to reach out for him, desperately needing some form of contact with his grandson in their last moments alive. Because that’s all that mattered. As long as his last moments were with Morty, everything would be okay.   
  
However, as he reached forward, his entire body gave out on him, and he collapsed on top of the poor teen. He wanted to get off— he didn’t want to hurt Morty.  
  
But before either of them could do anything, the entire world went black.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  
**M** -R- **o** -i- **r** -c- **t** -k- **y** groaned, feeling a headache blossom from just underneath ~~their~~  his skull as ~~they~~ he finally woke up. ~~They’d~~ He’d slept restlessly, the emotions of a terrible dream lingering on ~~their~~ his mind.   
  
 ~~They~~ He sat up, rubbing at ~~their~~  his eyes. “Fuck...”  
  
At the sound of ~~their~~ his voice, ~~they~~ he jolted slightly, eyes flying open in a panic. It didn’t sound right at all. That couldn’t possibly be _his ~~their~~_  voice, right? It sounded _wrong._ Was somebody else talking?   
  
 ~~They~~ He looked around, recognizing the place that ~~they~~ he was in. ~~They~~ He was still in the forest with the flowers. Of course. That’s what he’d ~~they’d~~ been doing. Collecting flowers.   
  
However, the flowers looked grey and withered now, like they had died. He ~~they~~  ran his ~~their~~ hand through a few petals that were laying on the ground beneath him, and they crumbled and flaked apart like leaves did in the Fall. ~~They~~ He looked around, trying to find the bucket that was supposed to preserve some of the flowers, but ~~they~~ he couldn’t. It wasn’t anywhere in his ~~their~~ sight.   
  
But that wasn’t important right now. Something horrible was happening, but he ~~they~~ just couldn’t seem to place what it was.   
  
 **Ri** -Mo- **ck** -rty furrowed ~~their~~  his brows, looking around as he  ~~they~~ tried to find Morty— no, wait, Rick? Was he finding Rick or Morty? Why was he—  
  
Wait, who even was _he?_ Had he hit his head? Why was he so confused about who he was?   
  
“W-wait,” ~~They~~   _He_ said, folding ~~their~~ his legs underneath ~~them~~ him on the ground. ~~They~~ He rose a hand to his throat, trying to figure out why ~~their~~ his voice sounded so weird. “What the fuck?”  
  
 ~~They~~ He looked down in confusion, feeling off in every way imaginable. Something definitely wasn’t right. ~~Their~~  His clothes... were... _weird._ Why was Rick’s lab coat—? Why was Morty’s yellow shirt—? Why did he have—?   
  
 ~~Their~~  His eyes widened, a sudden realization hitting **_them_** like a ton of bricks.   
  
“Am I— are we?” He said, heart suddenly pounding in his ears. “What the fuck?! D-did— am I— are _we_ the same person now?! How did this even—“  
  
He began patting himself down, looking at his clothes. He was wearing a combination of both. He had Morty’s yellow shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. But he had Rick’s lab coat and his belt. How did he-?  
  
His hands shook as he continued to look himself over, his mouth open from the shock. He wasn’t Rick or Morty— he was _both_. Both! Like they were sharing the same body and mind! 

  
  
“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, reaching up to his hair and running his hands through it in astonishment. Rick’s bald-spot wasn’t there, and his hair was at medium length, from what he could tell. Not as long as Rick’s, but longer than Morty’s. He couldn’t even _imagine_ what weird fucking color it was right now, and he was _not_ excited to find out. “I-I’m so— _How_ the actual fuck?! How did this even happen?! This has to be Morty’s fault!”  
  
He paused, thinking back to what had happened with the flower that exploded in Morty’s face. He could remember the whole thing from both Rick's and Morty’s perspectives. “Wait, but I have Morty’s memories... I-it was an accident. It was just my— _his_ curiosity. He didn’t— didn’t even touch it.”   
  
Half of him was mad at himself, but the other part felt horribly guilty, and he was struggling to shake that feeling.   
  
He quickly scrambled to stand up, only to immediately almost fall over, his legs feeling far too long to be normal, and the ground seeming way too far away. He had to grab a nearby tree just so he wouldn’t fall over. “Whoa, d-damn, a-are we taller than Rick? It’s l-like walking on fuckin’ stilts!”  
  
R **M** i **o** c **r** k **ty** pushed himself to stand at his tallest, looking down his body towards the ground. He looked at his hands, completely mesmerized by them. They looked more like Rick’s, except way less calloused. “W-who am I?” He asked himself.   
  
He had both of their memories all put together, but he didn’t know which parts of him were Rick and which parts of him were Morty. Was he even either of them?  
  
He— they were losing themselves. They were _him,_ not they, and Mor- **Ric** -ty- **k** was so confused. It shouldn’t be like this. They weren’t the same person, right?   
  
He felt like he couldn’t breathe, and his heart was pounding so quickly inside his chest. He leaned against the tree, covering his face with his hands. The anxiety was definitely coming from Morty. At least he knew that much.   
  
He slid down the tree, the bark digging into his back, but he didn’t care. “W-What are we going to do?” He asked. “What am  _I_ going to do?”  
  
He felt like one person with too many thoughts and contradicting opinions. His hand twitched, muscle memory pushing him towards reaching for his— _Rick’s_ —flask, but he didn’t want to drink. He _craved_ it, but he didn’t  _want_ to drink.  
  
He didn’t know what he wanted to do. He wanted to go home, but he also wanted to stay an investigate— he wanted to figure out how the hell he was supposed to fix everything.  
  
Was he even still a genius? Was he still as smart as Rick, or did Morty’s brainwaves cancel that out? Did Morty make Rick weaker? Oh, god, he didn’t want Morty to make Rick weaker—  
  
Painful emotions flooded him at that thought, memories of people calling Morty stupid and retarded and so much more. Flashes of terrible report cards ran through his mind, and mom’s—Beth’s— disappointed expression as he stared down at it.   
  
Bullies laughing at him for getting the problem on the board wrong, images of tests that the teenager just stared at endlessly, unable to answer the questions that he _knew_ should have been simple— that day he cried in the bathroom after his mother and father had both called him retarded and that he’d never get anywhere in his life—  
  
 _"Stop."_  R- **Mort** -ick- **y** said aloud, once again running his hands through his hair and pulling at it anxiously. He couldn’t think thoughts like that. It hurt so much more with both of them locked up in this single body. Both parts (every part?) of him were feeling horrible.   
  
“Morty’s n-not stupid. Rick doesn’t think Morty’s stupid.” He said under his breath, hoping it would make himself feel better. He knew what he was saying was true.   
  
The Morty side of himself felt like Morty was dumb— and he felt self-loathing accompany that thought. But Rick had _never_ thought Morty was dumb. Rick had always thought he was just smart in a different way.   
  
He was like Rick. He learned in a weird way that was nothing like everyone else, but Morty had the potential to accomplish so much more than everyone else if only he were given the proper materials.   
  
It was weird, having to reassure himself like this. Because he still felt like one singular person. It was so odd. He had two strands of thought inside his head, but they were also the same exact thought—there were just alternating in a weird way.   
  
When he thought of Beth Smith, he thought ‘mom’ at the same time he thought ‘daughter.’ When he thought of Summer Smith, he both thought ‘granddaughter’ and ‘sister.’ It was just weird things like that, that really confused him.   
  
He looked down at himself again, running a hand over his arms. He was as thin as a stick, which wasn’t surprising because Rick and Morty were both this thin, too. And his legs and arms were lengthy and long— he was probably about half a foot taller than Rick was.   
  
He shivered, not sure if he should be excited or terrified of exploring what it would be like to exist like this for a while. He was technically just born today— he hadn’t _existed_ a few moments ago. At least, not like _this._  
  
He was an entirely different person, separate from both Rick and Morty.   
  
He felt so exposed and vulnerable like this. He was both of them, and now both of them knew everything about the other. He had all of the same experience that both of them had, and a lot of personal things were being shared.   
  
The feeling of loneliness suddenly washed over him like a title wave, and it was weird for him to realize that it was coming from both of them. They both got lonely, but never when they were with each other. “But we are with each other.” He said, struggling to understand why he felt so lonely when the two of them were so close.   
  
He crossed his arms over his chest. “W-we... we _are_ together. We shouldn’t be feeling like this.”  
  
 _No,_ he couldn’t be like this. He had to stop. He was better than this— _they_ were better than this. He slowly pulled himself to his feet and took a deep, steadying breath. He shouldn’t be lonely, even if he felt like he was. He was _two_ people, and he had to remember that. He had to preserve them so that they didn’t disappear.   
  
The best course of action was to go back home and figure out his strengths and weaknesses before he came back here and tried to find a cure.   
  
He started walking back towards the Spaceship, struggling slightly to balance with his long-ass legs. He managed to pretty quickly get the hang of it, and pretty soon he was jogging, the pink petals crunching noisily underneath his—Morty’s— white sneakers.   
  
When he made it to the ship, he almost got into the passenger’s seat but remembered right before that he was both the driver _and_ the passenger.   
  
As he sat down in the driver's seat, he readied his hands on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling very out of place, like he wasn’t fulfilling some task that was usually so important to one of them.   
  
He cleared his throat uncomfortably as reached for the seat belt, buckling it over his chest.   
  
Okay, he felt more satisfied with it on, but... he also felt confined with it on.  
  
He groaned to himself, grabbing the top part of the seat belt and yanking off of himself and throwing it behind so that the only part of the seat belt he had on was the one by his lap. _There._ That seemed to finally do the trick. _Stupid Rick and Morty and their weird seat belt preferences._  
  
He started up the ship and flew off into space, leaving the planet that had fucked so many things up for them. He felt glad to leave, but terrified of the new journey ahead of himself. He both knew everything and nothing about himself. God, he didn’t even know what he was supposed to call himself.  
  
He wasn’t Rick, he wasn’t Morty. _Who was he?_  
  
“S-ship,” He said, hoping that the machine could still recognize him.  
  
The ship chirped in response, a faint light blinking on the dashboard. _“Yes, Rick and Morty?”_  
  
He laughed humorlessly, hands tightening on the steering wheel uncomfortably. “H-how’d you know it was both of us?”  
  
 _“I analyzed your brainwave pattern.”_ The ship responded, sounding almost smug. Rick had programmed the ship to have some attitude from time to time. It made things much more interesting. _“Have you fused into one singular entity recently?”_  
  
Mort- **R** -y- **ick** chuckled nervously, a drop of sweat trailing down the side of his face. “Y-yep, you're exactly correct.”  
  
 _“I know.”_ The ship responded, its voice sounding slightly smug again.  
  
“W-well, could ya help me figure out a name?” He asked anxiously yet confidently. An awkward smirk formed on his lips. This idea was _definitely_ coming from Morty.   
  
 _“Ricky, Rorty,_ Rickty _, Mork, Mock, and Mick are a few possible names that I have already generated.”_ The ship chirped happily in return. _“If you would like, I could generate more.”_  
  
The scientist—teenager—confused combination— thought about it for a moment, drumming his fingers lightly on the steering wheel. “M-Mick sounds like a pretty solid name.” He said. “Or Micky... I-I... we could go by Mick for short. I like Mick a lot."  
  
He flushed at the thought. _Did he really just give himself a name?_  
  
 _“I’ll catalog your new name in my files, Mick.”_ The ship responded cheerfully.   
  
Mick felt dread fill him at the thought that they might have to go by that name for a while. He was both of them, but neither of them at the same time. Technically, Rick and Morty didn’t exist right now. It was just... _Mick,_ now.   
  
It was just Mick.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I made the art, but the style kind of changes sometimes (There will be more art for this) because I suck at being consistent when it comes to drawing. I have a style, but I'm still trying to figure it all out. I've always been more adequate at writing anyway, so I practice with that more. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you so very much for reading! I really appreciate it! I don't know when the next chapter will be out, but I promise It'll get there eventually.


End file.
